


I'd be the best friend you fall in love with in the end

by remembermyfic



Series: 2019 Snail Mail Advent Calendars [3]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, That apple commercial, Youtuber AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-26 12:07:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20929955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remembermyfic/pseuds/remembermyfic
Summary: Honestly, the video is literally eleven minutes long because he couldn’t be fucked to edit more into it, and he has no idea what HockeyKid34 is even thinking. It’s the lowest effort Auston could have put into a video for his channel.Man, I ship it. Do you even realize you’re in love with him?Auston is shook.





	I'd be the best friend you fall in love with in the end

**Author's Note:**

> If you got here by googling yourself, this is your polite warning to turn back now. You're welcome. 
> 
> I have never been more unapologetic about a fic and I shipped JT and Freddy once. (I still do shhhhh)

It starts with an innocuous comment. Auston’s been on YouTube long enough to know that people who watch his videos, also have opinions on his life. It’s literally everything from his major (business, because if this YouTube thing is going to be the rest of his life, Auston wants to make sure he knows how to grow it, maintain it, and build a brand that’s more than just “influencer” status) to what he eats in a day (he is not eating organic, he’s not dropping more money on food when there’s no distinct need to), to the people in his life.

Which is where the comment comes in.

_Man, I ship it. Do you even realize you’re in love with him?_

Auston is shook. The comment is on a vlog for goodness sake, just a regular “A Week in My Life” because he’s swamped with his final project for the singular film class he took to pad his average and it lets him get work done, film and hang with his best friend all at the same time. Mitch helps him work and focus, always focused on this article or that one for his sports media shit. Honestly, the video is literally eleven minutes long because he couldn’t be fucked to edit more into it, and he has no idea what HockeyKid34 is even thinking. It’s the lowest effort Auston could have put into a video for his channel.

He screencaps the comment, and sends it to Mo. Mo’s the second best adult he knows, behind Freddy. Mo won’t mock him the way Freddy will though, so Mo is usually the better choice for his vaguely routine YouTube breakdowns.

_They’re not wrong_

Auston was though. Mo was a bad choice. He frowns at his phone. _Wym_

_Dude, did you even watch the thing?_

Honestly, Auston’s ninety percent sleep deprivation at this point. He doesn’t remember the last time he watched a video back after posting it. Maybe some time in December, when he’d been back in Arizona for the break.

_You should,_Mo responds when Auston tells him that. _I mean, for integrity, but also seriously dude. It’s all right there._

Auston frowns at his phone. Mo sucks.

Auston goes three days without looking. He chills with Mitch, he studies with Mitch, he helps Mitch edit a video of him flash cheering in the quad because the Leafs clinched a playoff spot - Auston couldn’t give a shit about the Leafs, but Mitch loves them, so he probably knows more about them than his beloved Coyotes.

And then Mitch, of all people, brings it up over lunch, snorting into his Chipotle bowl as he scrolls through his phone.

“Did you see we were trending a few days ago?”

Auston just raises his eyebrow. Sure, he spends too much time on Twitter and Instagram, but he’s also learned how to be so incredibly careful about it. He learned the hard way, somewhere in his early teens, not to Google himself either.

Mitch slides his phone Auston’s way. It takes Auston a few moments to register what he’s reading. “You follow my mentions?”

Auston thinks Mitch might be blushing, but it could just be the lighting. The SLC is all bright lights and weird shadows. “My bestie is a YouTube star. I pay attention.”

“YouTube star,” Auston snorts, but he gets quickly distracted as he scrolls through Mitch’s phone. He doesn’t realize he’s frowning until Mitch tosses a balled up napkin at his head.

“You’re going to get wrinkles.” It’s his way of asking what’s going on, what’s got him worried. Auston respects that, because Mitch has always offered him a way out of conversations that give him hives. Which is every emotional conversation but the point is Mitch’s emotional respect, not Auston’s emotional constipation.

“They’ve really jumped on this whole train,” is what Auston finally says. He can’t look at Mitch, he just can’t. He pretends he’s still scrolling, but he’s honestly not seeing much.

“I mean, we’re pretty cool. Or I am anyway. You’re too chill about the world.”

That makes Auston look up because Mitch needs to see how hard Auston’s rolling his eyes. “Chill is literally about being cool.”

“Chill is about how you refuse to show any emotion whatsoever. How you have so many followers when you literally cannot handle a single human feeling is beyond me.”

“Rude.” But Mitch has at least made him feel less like he’s going to panic or like he has to post some sort of apology or clarifying statement. His relationship with Mitch is just… it is what it is, and he has no idea how people have determined they need to ‘be together 5ever’ or whatever the lingo is today based on maybe thirty seconds in one video.

“Matts, Matty, Aus, Auston. It was not thirty seconds.”

Brock Boeser is a salt of the earth human, and Auston will tell that to anyone willing to listen. He’s been Auston’s roommate for almost three years, and has no issues with Auston’s crazy school-plus-YouTube-plus-whatever-else life. Nothing gets under his skin and Auston appreciates it.

“The video was eleven minutes,” and while Auston has maybe said that statement twice, it certainly feels like he’s been arguing about it for years. “There can’t be more than thirty seconds.”

“Dude.” Brock sounds so serious. Too serious. It puts Auston’s back up. The next thing he knows, Brock has sprawled on the bed beside him, video up on his phone. “Look. Let’s just… just watch it okay?”

It starts out with a shot of Mitch, because Mitch doesn’t give a shit about being on camera; they’d established that early in their friendship, when it became obvious that they were going to be “stuck like glue, Matts, this is going to be the best.”

It’s honestly… everything about it is normal to Auston. A couple shots of them going out, the hockey that they both play for Ryerson, solo ice time they’d managed to wrangle, even a shot at the gym. It’s all… Auston remembers that week, honestly. It’s all true to form.

“I don’t get it,” he says, when the video finishes. “That was an actual glimpse at my week.”

“Matts.”

“What?”

Brock is serious when Auston looks up at him, having started the video from the beginning again. He literally can’t see what people are kicking up a fuss about. He smiles when he gets to the part where Mitch flashes the double peace signs. What an idiot.

“Dude. You don’t even know, do you?”

“Hm?”

Brock sighs and snatches his phone back. “You’re fucking in love with him.”

Auston straight up freezes in surprise. “What?”

“And in denial.” Brock climbs from the bed, frustrated if Auston has to pick a descriptor.

“He’s my best friend.”

Brock huffs. “Find me a video like that one that isn’t about significant others. And while you’re at it, actually think about how Marner makes you feel.”

Auston sputters, but Brock very isn’t listening. In fact, he’s grabbed his backpack and headed out the door. So Auston reaches for his laptop and pulls up the video again.

He shoots up at 2am, woken from a dream of the future. Or, Auston figures it must be the future since the house he was in was huge and airy and he’d been nudged by not one, but two dogs weaving about his feet impatient for breakfast. Auston had been communing with the coffee maker, still unable to function before caffeine, when Mitch had wandered into the room, sleep rumpled and wonderful.

It had been domestic and real and Auston feels the stark emptiness of not having it now that he’s awake in the dark. His heart is thundering and nothing feels right. It drives him out of bed and into shoes and a coat. It’s a surreal moment driving to Mitch’s place because he both knows where he’s driving and feels like he has no idea.

But it’s where he ends up, pounding on the door like a crazy man. It’s certainly what it feels like.

“Auston? It’s 2:30am. What the fuck?”

“I’m in love with you.”

Mitch’s shoulders drop; Auston hadn’t even realized they were up by his ears. “Fuck.”

It’s an exhale which doesn’t really give Auston an indicator of how he feels about it. He forces himself shove his hands into his pockets.

“Fuck,” Mitch says again, this time reaching out to fist his hand into Auston’s shirt. “Are you sure this isn’t a dream?”

“What?” It’s a reflex question, the same way it must have been a reflex to grip Mitch’s wrist because Auston doesn’t remember doing it.

“A dream. This is real.”

“I mean, yeah,” Auston finds himself agreeing. He also finds himself fumbling for Mitch’s other hand, putting it against Auston’s thundering heart.

“Matts,” Mitch says, and he sounds absolutely winded, awed. “Auston.”

“What?” He feels weirdly off-kilter as he looks at Mitch.

“I didn’t think you knew.”

“What?”

Mitch’s laugh sounds a little hysterical. “It was the video, right? Everyone told me-”

“I mean, yeah, but not when I put it up.” He feels the blush flood his face at the admission. Mitch is laughing at him, Auston can tell.

“So then…”

“I had a dream.” Because that is less embarrassing to admit than Brock showing him his own goddamn vlog. “There were two dogs.”

“I love dogs,” Mitch says with a happy sigh.

“I woke up, and it… it wasn’t real.”

Mitch’s breath catches. Auston knows he can fill in the blanks. “It can be,” he says. “Real.” Auston watches Mitch’s Adam’s apple bob. “Forever.”

“Mitchy.” And Auston leans down, helplessly pressing his mouth to Mitch’s.

Mitch arches into it immediately, pushing himself closer, greedy with it. Auston soars, gives in, lets instinct take hold. The emotion comes with it, welling up in his chest in the same way it had to drive him here. He breaks away, overwhelmed with it.

“I’m in love with you,” he can’t help but repeat.

“Me too,” Mitch promises, and when had his hand curled around Auston’s neck. He uses it to tug Auston closer, into his apartment. “Stay here.”

“Your shirts never fit me,” Auston grumbles, but follows Mitch easily, as he always has.

As he always will.

**Author's Note:**

> Title unashamedly from Hannah Montana (Miley Cyrus) - If We Were A Movie
> 
> Originally written for Advent 2019 but then I wrote like, 27 others so consider this both an early (because it's not advent) and late (because WOW IS THIS AFTER THE APPLE COMMERCIAL).


End file.
